22 October 2022
This one is a bit heavier than most of the Elsenaia story. I’m not really sure what to say about it, other than what the POV character says below. I hope it’s not something we ever have to deal with again. I don’t know if the things I suggest happen would actually happen, but it’s not hard to imagine. And this story takes place inside the heads of these two; it’s what they imagine, and sometimes our imaginations are a lot scarier than real life.
due to my efforts to wrap up the current Hanako arc before Nanowrimo started, this is actually the last post in Elsenaia as of 11 November 2022. I’m not done yet, though.
…vanished back into my head.
I entered the library to examine the bookshelves, but I heard a cold but dignified male voice from behind me.
“You must find out what they are capable of. I doubt they have anything that can compete with our magics, but humans are cunning, and should never be underestimated.”
I looked back and found a projection of Elsenaia’s father speaking to a faceless version of her. His arms were clasped behind his back, and he faced away from her.
“Yes, Father. And once I return?”
The king turned around. “We make sure they will never be able to threaten us again. If necessary, we will eliminate them.”
My mind froze with horror, and I was whisked away to an imaginary battlefield, where elven sorcerers unleashed powerful magics on a faceless horde. It was devastating; if they’d been real people, thousands would have died within seconds. However…
Inside my head, Elsenaia grew bewildered as the setting changed. From afar, based on the video clips I’d seen of them, clips of various mushroom clouds started to play. Then the image zoomed in to blasted homes, vaporized shadows against what remained of the walls showing where people stood. Empty. Desolate. Even the ground was poisoned.
“What is this?” Elsenaia whispered. I appeared behind her and consciously shifted the image to a Japanese hospital room, where a sick girl folded origami cranes, hoping to recover after her blood had been poisoned by a flash of light roughly a decade earlier.
“It’s called a nuke, or nuclear weapon,” I whispered. “The devastation was so horrific the one time it was used, the world as a whole has an unspoken agreement not to use them. The damage it would cause the rest of the world, even opposite where it strikes, is almost unbelievable. However, you’re not from our world, are you?”
As the implication sunk in, I pictured what might happen if the elves tried to protect the portal. Would we just fly jets above them? Or perhaps troops of elves would fall to machine guns. An image of D-day popped into my head, as men stormed a beach only to get gunned down by a storm of bullets.
“Would,,, would your people really do that?” Elsenaia asked in horror. I could see her imagination as it conjured the image of her home as it vaporized.
“We did it once already,” I whispered. I remembered the war magics Elsenaia had pictured. “No matter who, people fear what they don’t understand. And fear makes people very stupid sometimes.” I grimace. “And the risks that usually prevent the use of nuclear weapons don’t apply to your country. Especially if your magics cause unexpected destruction to people in our world, the outrage of the people may demand it. Unless your magic can shatter the very planet itself, it won’t win the war outright, and the more destructive, the more it’ll kick up the hornet’s nest.”
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